


but they shall be

by inanhourofdreaming



Series: Here shall I [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inanhourofdreaming/pseuds/inanhourofdreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Stiles is panicking. Stiles is pacing his room and biting his lips and gripping his head and breathing fast and flat out, no-holds-barred panicking.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	but they shall be

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the comments, always appreciated:)

Stiles is panicking. Stiles is pacing his room and biting his lips and gripping his head and breathing fast and flat out, no-holds-barred _panicking._

What the hell had he been thinking? The guy had been gorgeous, yeah, but also kind of terrifying. He may not have been the wolf-thing from last night, with its angry red glow, but the dude was walking around with a leather jacket, a scowl, and a near-tangible aura of danger right where there had been a murder. Stiles should have run. Should’ve turned tail like Scott had wanted to and gotten the hell out of there.

Instead, he’d almost given himself away to Scott and he’d _definitely_ given himself away to Sexy-but-Dangerous.

Stiles slams himself into his computer chair and bangs his head down against the keyboard.

Scott hadn’t entirely bought his ridiculous excuse about having had a packet of antiseptic cream for the guy’s hands in his pocket but Stiles had played the “he was so hot I didn’t know what I was doing” card and Scott had been so surprised he was talking about hot _guys_ that he’d let the weird part drop and fixated on the “since when did Stiles want to date guys and not just Lydia Martin” part. Which was actually true, yeah, but Stiles hadn’t actually gotten around to expressing those feelings out loud just yet.

Ok, it’s ok. He can totally think his way through this. The guy had _let_ Stiles take his hands and fix them up, so he probably doesn’t want to kill him, right? I mean, if you wanted to kill someone, you probably wouldn’t let them hold your hands first? He thinks. There are definitely rules about this. Somewhere. Probably.

And then there’s the part where the body is gone. He knows the police haven’t found it because he’s been monitoring his dad’s calls and the police radio and they’re definitely still looking. He doesn’t think the wolf-thing has been back so it has to be somebody else. Hot guy, maybe? He’s not the killer but maybe he knew her or something. There had to be a reason he was there.

Stiles bites his lip and then jumps up and goes back to pacing.

The thing is, the guy radiated danger but not really _psycho_. He didn’t seem bad, exactly. More like a knife---like something that could kill you or cut your vegetables, depending on the mood. Stiles isn’t even sure _why_ he’s so sure about this; Scott’s still pretty convinced that the dude is a murderer. So it’s probably his thingy acting up. His power thingy, not his…other things. Although hell, maybe other things, too. That guy was really hot.

Even so, now he knows Stiles’ secret and, murderer or not, that could mean trouble. A lot of trouble. Because normal people can’t just fix up somebody’s wounds with a touch. Stiles hadn’t even known _he_ could do it until he’d seen the guy’s hands and gone on autopilot.

It’s just that there’d been something weird about the wounds. Stiles just sort of _knew_ they weren’t supposed to be there, like the idea that this guy could stay wounded felt wrong. As soon as he’d acknowledged that, it was like something else inside him had taken over and wham, next thing he knows he’s going all Touched By an Angel on Hot-but-Creepy.

Stiles throws himself on the bed and starts drumming his fingers against the mattress.

Ok, so, he’s got a new thingy to add to his other thingies. He’s really got to think of a name for these…powers, or whatever they are, but everything he comes up with sounds ridiculous. The thing with his mom’s stories was that they may all have been true but none of them were particularly _clear_ about what exactly this is or what to call it or where the hell it came from. And from what she’d told him, it’s different for each person anyway. So y’know, he’s basically winging it, here.

He puts his hands over his eyes and sighs. A door slams downstairs and Stiles’ dad is hollering up that the food’s here. He jumps up to go meet him downstairs. Food usually helps everything.

 

Dinner with his dad is always grounding for Stiles. The sheriff describes his day, Stiles tells him whatever he has on his mind, and they both pretend they don’t still miss Stiles’ mom. Tonight it’s Chinese. Chinese usually means his dad is in work mode and still thinking about whatever he’s working on, so Stiles decides to try and press for more information on the body in case his dad is feeling like talking it out.

“So, dad,” he says casually, reaching for the chow mien, “they know who that jogger was?”

His dad gives him a look that says he knows what Stiles is trying to pull but he’s answering anyway so whatever. Stiles takes a sip of water.

“Yes, actually. Turns out there was a wallet a bit further out in the woods. License belonged to a Laura Hale.

Stiles pauses his cup in front of his mouth.

“Hale? As in, the Hale fire?”

“Exactly. Apparently the brother’s back in town, too. We’re trying to bring him in for questioning but he hasn’t turned up yet. Doesn’t seem to be staying in any of the hotels, though, and the house is still a shell.” His dad swipes his hand across his face and sighs. “That kid’s been through a lot. I hate to think he’d have anything to do with this but you never know what that kind of tragedy can do to a person.”

Stiles is already only half paying attention. Hale. The guy in the forest must have been Derek Hale. He only partially remembers the story---his mom had been sick at the time and he’d had other things to worry about. God, the whole family had died. It had been awful.

At least that answered the question of why he’d been around the scene. Because if he didn’t kill his sister, he’d probably be trying to find who did. So that was one mystery solved, anyway. Of course, the next one was what…or _who_ that wolf thing was. He’s not sure he’s ready for the answer to that one yet.

He excuses himself from the table, throws his plate in the dishwasher, and heads upstairs, claiming homework. Maybe he’ll video chat Scott and see if he has any ideas. Sometimes Stiles just needs someone to focus his thoughts for him. His dad and Scott, both steady and dependable, are really good for that.

He swings open his door and steps through, letting it slam shut behind him. He moves towards his computer and then he freezes.

Derek Hale is in his room.

 

Stiles wants to bolt but Derek is faster, slams him into the wall, fists gripping the front of his shirt, hard body pressed against him.

“You’re Derek Hale,” Stiles says, caught. Fuck, he even smells good. Derek’s impressive eyebrows lower in suspicion as he glares back.

“I am. What were you doing with my sister,” Derek says.

“Nothing! I wasn’t, nothing! I didn’t even know who she was until ten minutes ago.”

Stiles twitches against the wall. Derek continues to glare; he still looks mad but maybe not at Stiles? That might just be his face. Stiles isn’t judging.

“You’re telling the truth,” Derek says, and if anything, he looks even grumpier about this. He loosens his grip on Stiles shirt slightly but doesn’t let him go. “You found her, in the forest. I saw you.”

Stiles relaxes against the wall, relieved Derek appears to believe him.

“Yeah, I heard about the bod---uh, your sister. And uh, the forest was. Upset,” he says, figuring what the hell, the guy already kind of knows what he can do. May as well go all in. Derek releases him and takes a step back.

“The forest was upset,” he repeats, like he’s not entirely sure what Stiles is saying.

“Yeah, I get…I mean, sometimes places kind of…talk to me? And the forest was really upset about your sister, so, y’know, it…called?”

He’s really got to find a better way of explaining this.

“Like what you did with my hands,” Derek says. He is looking far less skeptical than Stiles expected.

“Yeah, that one was new. I didn’t know I could do that, actually. That was pretty impressive of me,” Stiles says. This is going far better than he would have thought. Derek nods in acknowledgement and backs off a little more. Stiles figures it’s about as close to a thank you as he’s going to get.

“What are you,” Derek asks. Stiles has begun to notice Derek doesn’t really get the inflection part of speaking.

“Uh, a human being? Horny teenager? Witty but loveable son? Awesome best friend?”

Stiles knows being snarky might not be the best route, but it’s not like he even _has_ an actual answer.

Derek just raises his eyebrows.

“Look, I don’t actually know, ok? I mean, I’ve got bits and pieces, stories my mom told me before she died, that sort of thing, but there isn’t a name for what I can do. I just sometimes can think things, and then they happen, or I can sort of affect the world around me. I don’t always know how it’s going to work. Sometimes I see like, auras. Yours is a really awesome blue, by the way. And sometimes the world sort of…talks to me.”

Derek is nodding his head thoughtfully like Stiles doesn’t sound like a complete nutcase which, Stiles is grateful, really, but why is this guy accepting this so easily?

“You’re…taking this kind of well,” Stiles says, because he wouldn’t be Stiles if he didn’t push a little.

“You healed my hands. I felt you do it. This makes…sense,” Derek says. He shrugs and Stiles catches himself staring at the way Derek’s leather jacket shifts over his broad shoulders. “Why, do people usually not believe you?”

“Well,” Stiles says as he plunks down on his bed, “to be honest, you’re the first person I’ve ever told. So I guess for now the answer is no?”

Derek looks surprised at this, at least as much as he seems to make facial expressions.

“Your dad? Or…Scott, was it?” he tries.

“No, I never…it was never the right moment, I guess,” Stiles says and shrugs. “It’s not exactly the kind of thing you can just drop into conversation. Especially since it’s been years, now.”

Derek’s nodding like he actually understands but Stiles doesn’t know how he could.

“So look, about your sister,” he starts. Derek looks at him, cautious but not totally closed off, which is a good sign.

“There was. Ugh, I know this sounds insane, ok, but there was a. A wolf? A wolf thing. Yesterday. It was…” Stiles is saying when he realizes that Derek has completely tensed up again and taken a step towards him.

“You saw it. The wolf,” Derek says, bending down and gripping Stiles’ shoulders kind of painfully tightly.

“Uh, yes. Wait, you know about it? Cause---look, could you loosen your grip a little there, _Lennie_ , you’re about to break my shoulders, thanks,” Stiles continues once Derek loosens his grip a bit, “because the thing is, I think it was a person. A, uh, wolf. Person. A werewolf? It had an aura. And I’ve never seen a normal animal have one of those. Only people.”

Derek has loosened his hands but he’s staring at Stiles so intently he’s afraid he’s going to catch fire, his eyes flicking up and down Stiles face like he’s trying to read his mind. They are _really_ blue up close.

“It didn’t attack you,” Derek says.

“No. I was looking for it, actually. It was…there was something wrong with it. It was like it was in pain, you know? I thought maybe I could help. I think that’s what I’m supposed to do,” Stiles shrugs.

“You went looking for the giant, murdering werewolf. In the woods. By yourself.” Derek is staring at Stiles now like he’s something Derek didn’t expect to find, kind of surprised and with maybe something that almost resembles respect.

“Well, Scott was with me at first but my dad caught him, which was probably for the best cause he’s my best friend but he doesn’t actually know about me yet,” Stiles says. “Also, I didn’t actually know it was a werewolf at the time, just that it was something…wild?”

“It could have killed you. Why didn’t it?” Derek asks.

“Well,” Stiles says, still kind of half focused on the way Derek’s hands are bleeding heat through his shirt where they’re resting on his shoulders, “I mean, it’s my forest. Well, not mine, I don’t own it. Actually, I guess _you_ own it, huh? Anyway, it’s just what I am, it has that effect on wild animals. It’s a sort of connection, I guess? I’m like the animal tamer. Ish."

“It doesn’t bother you. That it was a werewolf. You weren’t afraid of it,” Derek is looking closely at Stiles, waiting for his reaction.

“He. It was definitely male. And uh, no, I guess it doesn’t. I mean, I wasn’t afraid, I just wanted to help. And come on, werewolves would be awesome, as long as they aren’t running around killing people,” he says before he realizes he pretty much just said the thing that murdered Derek’s sister could be cool, god, what is _wrong_ with him.

Only Derek doesn’t look upset, just thoughtful.

“Will you help me find him?” Derek asks, like it’s an actual request.

“That depends. What will you do if you find him?” Stiles asks immediately.

“I don’t know,” Derek answers honestly. Stiles nods.

“Yeah. I guess I will.”

Derek nods and stands up, hands brushing off of Stiles shoulders and walks towards Stiles’ open window. He kind of misses the warmth of them.

“I’ll be in touch,” Derek says and then jumps. Out his two story window.

Stiles leaps off the bed and runs to the window but Derek’s long gone.

“Huh,” he says to himself.

He’d better call Scott and catch him up and then maybe start researching werewolves. And if he touches his shoulders where Derek’s hands had bruised them a little more than usual tonight, well, that doesn’t mean a thing.


End file.
